


Chess and Solitaire

by xTylar_Writes_Thingsx



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Insane Wilbur Soot, Manipulation, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Self-Harm, Wilbur and Dream centric, look its not a tommy angst for once!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx/pseuds/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx
Summary: “Have you ever played solitaire Dream?” Wilbur reiterated, the tone of his voice staying at that manipulative coo that Tommy had grown so accustomed to hearing.“The objective of the game is to place your cards into formation in sequential order, from the ace,” Wilbur pulled a singular card out of the middle of the deck, then shifted his fingers in a snapping motion to reveal two cards.“Through the King. You need to use each of your cards in order to achieve victory.”--AKA: What would have happened if Wilbur's resurrection was planned.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103





	Chess and Solitaire

An earsplitting scream was ripped from the throat of the younger, watching as the madman revived the man he most despised.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, he was supposed to prevent this! 

Tommy had stayed aroused through the gruelling heat, pushing through the lullaby of slumber to watch Dream, to ascertain that that lunatic wouldn’t bring Wilbur back to life.

His eyes had shut for just one minute (One minute? In this place that could have been hours), and he was woken by the flashes of floral lights. Tommy’s eyes had opened from the harsh rays, only to see the unmistakable body of his older brother, laying still on the ground. 

He couldn’t help the pure terror that shook through him as Wilburs hand twitched.

Dream watched the boy panic in amusement from the corner of the pitch-ebony cell. He knew that the resurrection ritual had worked on Tommy, but he didn’t know if he would be successful for a second time. Like always, the self-proclaimed god prevailed, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for Wilbur to wake up. 

The older male in question started moving from the lump on the floor, gradually but surely standing up onto his unused feet. Tommy’s jaw dropped in shock as his former brother observed his hands and arms, turning them over in silent admiration. 

The man was wearing the same clothing that he had worn during the Manburg war; A dirty brown coat covered in gunpowder, that goddamn yellow sweater stained with dried blood, and those eyes once a warming hazel now a sharp maroon. 

Said eyes snapped up, meeting Tommys in a stare, his mouth twitching into a smile. A smile that had Tommy not known the underlying meaning of would think was a welcoming smile. Tommy had been drawn into that smile far too many times. 

“Tommy”, Wilbur’s voice croaked out. His smile turned to a grin to reveal his pearly white teeth. 

The blonds breath caught in his throat, his own teeth grinding together. A cough drew the two out of their trance and Dream stepped forward. 

“Wilbur, its been a while,” Dream said. Wilbur’s grin did not falter, and his body did not move except for those piercing eyes, looking at the man like a vulture to its prey.

“Dream. I’m alive.” It sounded more akin to a statement than a question, earily provoking Tommy’s nerves. 

“I have resurrected you Wilbur with my power. You are in the realm of the living.” Dream stepped closer to the man, who stared back at the cracked, dirt stricken mask. 

“It seems I am. It took you long enough.” Dream paused, his footsteps halting. 

“What do you mean ‘long enough’ Wilbur?” he growled. Wilbur finally moved his body, reaching into his filthy coat. 

He pulled out a pack of red cards, shuffling the deck in silence. The tension was heftily ponderous, eating at Dream until his patience wore thin. 

“Answer me, Wilbur. I am the God who brought you back to life. You will answer to me.” Wilburs eyes shot up to the slits in Dreams mask. A shiver ran down Dreams spine. 

The older man returned to shuffling the cards, stopping when they were orderly stacked into one pile in the palm of his hands. 

“Dream,” Wilbur asked bringing the mans attention to him. “Have you ever played solitaire?” 

“I don’t care about your stupid games Wilbur. I brought you back to life, now answer me-” 

“Have you ever played solitaire Dream?” Wilbur reiterated, the tone of his voice staying at that manipulative coo that Tommy had grown so accustomed to hearing. 

“No, I have not,” Dream realised they weren’t getting anywhere so he might as well amuse the former president. After all, Tommy had been delirious after he got resurrected so the same might be happening to the brunette. 

“The objective of the game is to place your cards into formation in sequential order, from the ace,” Wilbur pulled a singular card out of the middle of the deck, then shifted his fingers in a snapping motion to reveal two cards. 

“Through the King. You need to use each of your cards in order to achieve victory.” 

“And what does this relate to anything I have asked you?” Dream asked, tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. 

“You're a man of games, are you not? I would expect you to be intrigued by playing something new,” Wilbur closed his eyes and smirked. 

“This is correct, however, I am already in the middle of a game already.” 

“As am I.” Wilbur throws the two cards on the ground, bringing his boot up and slamming it onto them. He takes a card yet again out of his jacket pocket, this time tossing it threw the air like a frisbee towards Dream. He catches the white slip between his thumb and index finger, flipping it to its visible side. His wrist starts to shake, his breath picking up as he stared at the card. 

Tommy, through the haze of panic, shifted to the side to see the card, before he too sat in shock. 

Depicted on the card was a beautiful work of art, the gold and silver swirls and contrasting colours engendering an eye-gratifying painting. In the centre was Dream, who was grasping the hand of Wilbur, pulling him up from the realm of the dead. 

“You’ve been playing a game of chess with all of us. Utilizing all of us as pawns. But I’ve been playing my own game as well. To me, you are but a simple two of spades. You are not a deity, you are not the king of the chessboard. However, there is one thing we have in common, Dream. Tommy.” Wilbur stared Dream through the slits of his mask, noticing Dreams eyes narrow. 

Tommy perked up at the mention of his name, terror but also curiosity creeping up and consuming him like an addiction. 

“Tommy is your rook, my ace. Tommy is unexpected, picked from the card pile by chance,” Wilbur continues. 

“Tommy strikes at the cessation of the game across the entire board when he is most needed. You know this Dream. Solitaire is a single-player game for a reason.” 

Dreams frown was audible through his muffled voice. “You were aware that I was going to revive you.” 

The malignant man merely nodded his head carelessly, like this was an everyday occurrence. 

“I was the first person to read that book, after all.” 

Dream tsked. “Explain yourself.” 

Wilbur hummed in acknowledgement.

“Gladly. Back during the time of Pogtopia, I had received a whiff of information from that Quackity boy that Jschlatt might hold the power to revival. Albeit was by accident that he had revealed his secrets to me, it didn’t matter, I still had what I desired. Jschlatt feared the power of the book, so he refused to read it. The moment I discovered it was after Jschlatt and Quackity had come close to discovering the cave of Pogtopia, and when Tommy ran off to eradicate the Manberg flag. I used the distraction to sneak into my nation and find the book.” 

Tommy’s mouth dropped.  _ That’s _ why Wilbur went crazy. It makes sense! Dream had only fully turned mad when Jschlatt died, so that was when he got the book! 

“Unfortunately I was pressed for time, so I could not take the book. Due to this miscalculation on my behalf, this resulted in you receiving the knowledge. I figured out a new plan, one that involved you.” Dream took a step backwards. 

“But, if you knew the secrets to the book, then why? Why involve me and not just revive yourself?” Dream shouted with a shaky breath. 

“I knew that your greed and thirst for knowledge after discovering the book would be... large. You have always wanted to control the power of death, perhaps sending a lab rat to explore this realm for you.” The man gestured to Tommy. Wilbur took a step forward towards Dream. 

“The entire world thinks that Tommy and I are dead.” Dream gasps in realization and gulps the air around him as he fell to the ground. Wilbur smiles sweetly, eyes scrunching closed and the corners of his mouth lifting. 

It reminded Tommy of a simpler time. A time of Lmanberg, the time of friendship and family, of Wilburs warm smiles through any pain they had suffered. 

“Most things up to now were planned, besides Tommy ripping two of your lives from you. That was an unexpected bonus that made my life ten times easier.” He directed that familiar smile towards the younger. 

Back in Pogtopia, Tommy would have gotten chills from the former president’s haunting grin. However, this time he saw the old Wilbur, his brother. Some part of Tommy still hoped that  _ his _ Wilbur was still in there, buried deep inside. Perhaps, maybe Tommy should give Wilbur another chance.

“Now I can finish what I have started, without the pestering of those scum that rest outside these walls, those ‘allies’ and ‘friends’ that left Tommy and I to die and suffer. We will not be hunted, for we are ‘dead’, credited to you. You are trapped in here, with nowhere to run. You’re a smart man, aren’t you? Predict my next move.” 

Dream crawls back into the corner of his cell, his back pressed along the cold and damp bricks. 

“No! No! I have been so fastidious with my plans! You cannot do this, I am a god!” Wilbur took a few strides forward, reaching a hand over Dreams mask. 

“As you would say in your favourite game,” Wilbur cooed, a broken smile plastered onto his face. 

“This is checkmate.” 

Those words echoed against the caverns of Dreams mind before everything finally turned black.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! My works seem to keep getting shorter and shorter, and my prompts have run out so I might not be posting so often. Wow, look! For once its not a Tommy-centric fanfiction! Wow! I'm so proud of myself /j
> 
> Anyways, have a wonderful day, and make sure to stay healthy! Grab some water and some food, bundle up in some blankets, and watch/do something! Bye!


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